I PULLED FROM EARTH A LIST OF FAULTS

With blue coins I paid the guide.
I lived inside the threats I wrote.
I never spoke them.
Shine copper alloy hand.
The demands of attention reveal
a palm the color of sky.
Who will hear the clink
down steps along earth’s curve,
where I excavate night?
It waited for me to step down,
the earth. It asked for no story.
I would have passed over myself from above.
I felt the outlines of a door below:
I reached for the remote in the stone cushions
but my arm required I carve it from stone.
Fire from chisel I could not pick up.
I could not pick up the underground phone.

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from Rubble at the Four Corners of the Self–published by FOOD

Buy it here

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By Matt Broaddus 👍